Page 53 of All in December
“I brought my lube.” He grins over his shoulder at me.
My dick starts to perk up at the mention. I haven’t stopped thinking about what we did the last time we were together—the way he fell apart for me, the way he begged for more, the way he was my own little personal and perfect slut. My desire for him is burning through my veins, the need is pooling low and hot in my gut, and I can’t wait to fuck him tonight.
“Mmm, good boy,” I praise. “There’s no place hotter than a hotel room, is there?”
Looking around, he shakes his head, because there really isn’t.
Reaching out, I cup his jaw, turning his mouth toward me. His stunning pale blue eyes with hazel specs look back at me, wide and waiting, already a little dazed from anticipation as I pull him into me. Our lips crash together as I make it known how much I want him, spinning him around until we’re facing each other. Our bodies press together tightly, my thigh slips between his, and he starts grinding down against it, needy little sounds spilling from him as I devour his mouth.
When I pull back, his pupils are blown wide. I yank at his tie, the silk slipping through my fingers. “Shirt off, baby,” I murmur, “but keep this on.”
He obeys without a word, unbuttoning his shirt with an urgency that makes my blood run hotter. I kick off my shoes and shrug out of my shirt, keeping my eyes locked on him the entire time. He’s standing in front of me with nothing but hisslacks and that damn tie as his chest rises and falls fast, awaiting my next command.
I need him naked, though. Now.
Stepping up to him, my fingers slide over his waistband before I tug at his belt, undoing the clasp. The clink of the buckle makes him shiver, and I unfasten his pants, letting them drop to the floor. My gaze devours every inch of him as he stands there in just his briefs and tie now, already hard and waiting for me.
“You are so damn sexy, Cay,” I growl, eyes roaming his body.
He looks up at me with a smile that’s part shy, part hungry. I grab his tie, pulling him into me as our mouths crash together again. My other hand trails down, cupping his erection through the thin cotton of his underwear. He lets out a sharp breath, hips jolting forward, and I grin against his mouth as an idea strikes me.
“You want me to fuck your tight hole with the curtains open? Let everyone in Denver see how good you take my cock?”
His eyes flick to the glass then back to me as he swallows and nods. “Yes.”
“Mmm,” I groan. “Such a good boy for me. Everyone out there gets to see your perfect, hard dick leaking formewhile I fuck you. How fucking lucky are they?”
He licks his lips, eyes shining. When I glance down, sure enough a damp spot is already forming through his boxer briefs at the thought.
“In front of the window,” I order, my voice darker now. “Hands on the glass. Ass out.”
He turns slowly, taking a couple of steps toward the wallof glass. He plants his palms against it, arching his back, offering himself to me in the glow of the city night.
And fuck, the view has nothing on him.
I stalk up behind him, drag my hands slowly down his back, then lower until I hook my fingers into the waistband of his underwear. I peel them down inch by inch, revealing his round ass that’s begging for me. When I tap his thigh, he steps out of them, leaving him gloriously bare except for the silk tie hanging from his neck.
I grip his hips and grind my still-clothed cock against his ass. He hisses at the friction, pushing back into me like he can’t get close enough. I’m addicted to how he’s surrendering so fully, letting himself want this while I take every inch of him I crave.
“Spin your tie around,” I growl, wanting it where I can grab it.
He does instantly, so the tie trails down his back like a leash. I wrap it around my hand and yank it gently, pulling his head back toward me. The visual of him—naked, bent over, spine curved with his ass out and the city lights kissing his skin—is fucking art.
“Perfect,” I breathe, voice laced with hunger. “God, you’re fucking perfect.”
I stop rutting against him just long enough to drop to my knees and sink my teeth into the swell of his right cheek. He gasps at the sensation, and the sound shoots straight to my cock. I soothe the bite with a slow, wet lick, grinning when he lets out a low, desperate whimper.
“You like that?”
“Yes,” he pants. “Yes, please more. Please.”
I press a kiss to the base of his spine, then look up at the flushed, trembling man in front of me.
“Good boy,” I murmur. “Don’t hold back. I want to hear everything. And if anything feels off or too much, you tell me. Understood?”
“Yes. Yes, Nash,” he whimpers, voice wrecked already, and fuck, I love him like this—eager, needy, trusting.
I don’t tease him or make him wait. He gave me the perfect answer, and good boys get rewards.
